


If I Knew One Day You'd Come

by michaelandthegodsquad



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: I see nothing but pain here, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve was Bucky's anchor and Bucky blames himself, WOMP, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelandthegodsquad/pseuds/michaelandthegodsquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It occurs to Bucky that even if by some miracle he does get out of here, even if he does somehow make it back to Brooklyn, Steve won’t be there; Bucky’ll never be home again, not really. </p><p>This time, when the shocks come, Bucky closes his eyes and lets go, lets himself forget.</p><p>-</p><p>Or: Bucky is being held by Hydra when he hears about Steve's death, and loses the will to fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Knew One Day You'd Come

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, I spent most of today having feels about Bruno Mars's "If I Knew," and this is the result of that. If you hate yourself as much as I apparently do, check out the song and think of Stucky.
> 
> I was in a bit of a hurry to post this, so any mistakes are on me. If you notice any, feel free to point them out. Thanks for reading!

When Bucky wakes up at the bottom of the ravine, steadily being covered in snow and with every nerve in his body singing with unbearable pain, there are hushed voices whispering around him. He tries to blink his vision clear to see who they are, tries to move away when they begin reaching for him, but everything hurts so much and he's just so _tired_.

~

He fights them for as long as he can; tries to run the moment the feeling returns to his legs, swings every time they untie his arms. They try to pull information out of him but all they ever get is name, rank, serial number.

When they begin strapping him to the chair and wiping him, he clings on to his most important memories: his name, his home, his ma's face, and Steve, always Steve.

~

One day one of the doctors comes in and sits by the chair, trying to look casual as though Bucky doesn't know he's up to something. Bucky stays alert, ready to move if he has to, going over important names and dates to keep his mind as sharp as possible after last night's wipe.

"I don't know why you keep fighting us, Sergeant Barnes," the doctor says conversationally in his thick accent. "You're only doing yourself more harm resisting the treatment. You know you're never getting out of here. No one is going to rescue you this time."

Bucky goes for the instinctual name, rank, serial number, but the numbers are getting all jumbled in his head. "S'not true," he spits. "I'm gettin' outta here. If I can't do it on my own I know Steve--Captain America will find me," he tells the doctor, inwardly praying that he's wrong and that Steve won't be stupid enough to put himself in harm's way for Bucky's sake again.

The doctor eyes Bucky over the edge of his newspaper. "Oh, you haven't heard," he says, sounding pleased. Bucky wants to rip his smug face off. "Your beloved Captain America is dead."

Bucky stiffens, but doesn't react. Guy's just trying to get in his head. "Bullshit," he says, not nearly enough conviction behind it.

"Oh yes," the doctor says, folding his newspaper and tossing it into Bucky's lap. Bucky looks down at the headline and his stomach turns, blood pumping loud in his ears: 'Captain America Presumed Dead' the headline says, big and bold letters mocking Bucky.

"Your Captain crashed into the Arctic Ocean three days ago. He most likely drowned, if the hypothermia didn't get to him first. Not even a super soldier can survive there." He sounds delighted; Bucky wants to throw up.  
  
~  
  
The doctor leaves the newspaper in his lap and Bucky gets a crick in his neck from looking down to read it over and over. Fucking Steve. Bucky always told him one day his heroics would get him killed, but he’d never meant it, always assuming he’d be there to protect Steve. Fuck. Bucky closes his stinging eyes and tries to steady his breathing.

Hours later, the whole crew comes back in, telling him they want to try another wipe. Bucky immediately goes over the important things in his head: name, rank, serial number, his ma’s face, home, Steve--

Steve.  
  
It occurs to Bucky that even if by some miracle he does get out of here, even if he does somehow make it back to Brooklyn, Steve won’t be there; Bucky’ll never be home again, not really.

This time, when the shocks come, Bucky closes his eyes and lets go, lets himself forget.

~

Decades later, the Winter Soldier sees a familiar face on a bridge, and can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something important.

~

It’s a long time before he’s able to find his way back to Steve, who accepts Bucky into his life without a second thought.

He has nightmares more often than not, flashes of previous missions, faces in crosshairs and blood on snow. Steve tries to help as much as he can, talking Bucky down and staying with him until he can get back to sleep, _if_ he can.

One night Bucky dreams of leaning back into the chair when the shocks begin, of the moment he gave up, the moment he lost the will to fight back. Steve is there with his concerned face when Bucky wakes up in a cold sweat, clinging to Steve’s shirt.

“I—I let it happen. All of it,” he says, quiet but panicked. “I could’ve fought back but I…it’s all my fault, I let them do it.”

“Hey, stop that,” Steve says firmly. “This isn’t your fault. What they did to you—it’s all on them. Stop blaming yourself.”

Bucky looks up at Steve, eyes wide. “They told me you were dead. They—they showed me, they said you were dead and I couldn’t, I couldn’t do it.” He lifts a shaking hand to Steve’s cheek, slowly and gently as if he’s not sure if Steve is real. Steve sighs, nuzzling into the touch.

“I would’ve kept fighting,” Bucky whispers, desperate for Steve to believe him. “Steve, if I’d known you were…” he trails off, shuddering.

Steve nods, cheek still in Bucky’s palm; his hand comes to rest on Bucky’s. “Yeah, Buck. I know.”


End file.
